Item – In my last post, when I said: ‘I notice, stat-wise, that when I post graphically about my periods, a large chunk of my readership, eh, averts its eyes and scuttles demurely away,’ I didn’t mean, dear hearts, that I expected more comments. I know that sometimes you can read a post, and feel all the sympathy and concern in the world, and… just have absolutely nothing to say. I’m like that the whole time. No, what I actually meant, and should’ve made clearer, is that I actually get fewer ‘clicks’ from people coming over from places like Google Reader and other assorted RSS feeds. It seems (note ‘seems’) as if, when people can tell from the title and first few lines they can see in the reader, that this is going to be a gore-soaked lady-bits post, they just don’t come over and read it. Which is fair enough. In fact, more than fair enough. 93% of all blog-anxst could be so neatly avoided if people just didn’t force themselves to read posts they know they’re not going to like/agree with/appreciate.
Item – That said, my tagline is ‘Too much information will certainly be shared’ for a reason. This is an infertility and busted-lady-parts blog. I fully set out to discuss busted-lady-parts from day one. Why subscribe if you don’t want to read about busted-lady-parts? I mean that with all sincere, earnest, wide-eyed curiosity, and hardly any snark at all. What is there to gain from following my vapourings if not a hearty dose of Mother Nature, Red In Tooth And Claw sympathy/empathy/car-crash rubbernecking/solidarity?
Item – I am not sure where I am going with that last item, so I shall unceremoniously abandon it and go off on a tangent.
Item – This is the tangent. I sometimes trawl about the blogosphere looking for other women like myself, or spouses of women like myself, who have something on the endometriosis/adenomyosis/fibroids/uterine fuckery spectrum. For the solidarity, you know, also tips on survival. I am constantly bewildered by the amount of blogs out there that announce, in the tagline, the ‘about’ page, the categories, even the blog name, that the writer thereof has Uterine Fuckery, and yet it is barely mentioned in the posts. Occasionally, the writer might demurely refer to her ‘symptoms’ getting better or worse (no idea what symptoms), or announce that she had a lap and stage whateveritwas endo was found. And… that’s it. Apparently, these ladies are never in pain, never bleed through their clothes, never collapse at work, never miss work, never send their partners out for emergency 24-hour-chemist raids, yada yada yada. I don’t understand it. Are that many women asymptomatic or only mildly inconvenienced, but nevertheless think it’s something to name their blog after? If they are suffering the torments of the damned, why not say so? Why base a whole blog and online identity around the endometriosis diagnosis if you’re never, ever going to mention it at all in anything other than terms that would pass muster in a Victorian drawing-room? I mean, fair enough, obviously, not discussing it if you’re not comfortable doing so, but then I’d expect the blog to be called something else. It’s like calling a blog ‘May’s crazy-wild sex antics!’ and then only very briefly mentioning having ‘relations’ with the husband maybe twice in four years’ blogging. The Gentle (if not Genteel) Reader would have every right to wonder what in living crikey was this, a joke? An exercise in supreme irony? The hell?
Item – Feel free to tell me I’m an idiot, and why, by the way. I need to know. Especially if I really am being an idiot about this.
Item – Meanwhile, in terms of my own Uterine Fuckery (nickname ‘Cute Ute’ now so laden with irony that it is probably the real reason I’m not anaemic), basically, for the last four days, I have bled lightly, sometimes very lightly, all day, and then, suddenly, each evening, it’s like Old Faithful has gone off. There follows an interval of anywhere between an hour and three hours in which, well, you know that bit in The Shining? And then it all stops again. This is weird, right? It is weird. Yes. I think it is.
Item – This evening, while I was rushing back to the bathroom for the third tampon-change in less than an hour, H’s nose started bleeding as well. What is this, couvade?
Item – Laparoscopy pre-op hospital appointment on Friday – the one where they weigh you, ask about all your illnesses and drugs and relations and everything, and put it all on a form they can then lose at their leisure. Seeing as you’ll talk them through it all again, twice, on the day of the surgery itself.
Item – H was wondering whether to post something here himself this week. Please do feel free to nag him until he does.